Eventually, my friends left to check in with Rhea again, as well as to start the preparations for our journey back to Bellona. Now that Heinrich had agreed to my treaty, I didn’t want to stay in Glitnir any longer than necessary, especially given all the awful things that had happened while I’d been here.
It was time to go home to my own problems.
I was scheduled to meet with Heinrich to hammer out the details of our treaty over lunch, but instead of going to the king’s dining hall, I took a detour and climbed the steps to Alvis’s tower workshop. I knocked on the door and waited for him to tell me to enter.
Gemma and Grimley were here, and the princess ran over and hugged me. “Evie! I’m so glad you’re okay!”
“Of course I’m okay, thanks to you and Grimley.”
I hugged her back, then went over and petted Grimley, who was lying in his sunspot. I left the two of them to play together and walked over to Alvis, who was perched on his stool, working on his latest design.
A long, jagged block of light gray tearstone was laid out on the table. It hadn’t been cut yet, but Alvis was holding a piece of white chalk, and he’d already sketched out a design on the block.
“A tearstone sword?” I raised my eyebrows. “How come I’m not surprised?”
He shrugged. “I already made the girl a dagger. I might as well make her a sword too.”
“And a shield?” I teased.
He grinned a little. “And a shield, eventually. Maybe even another dagger. Or a spear. Or a bow and a set of arrows. Whatever weapons she likes.”
I nodded. He leaned forward, peered through his magnifying glass, and made some more marks on the tearstone. I watched him work in silence for several minutes, while Gemma fed Grimley small shards of opals that were left over from one of Alvis’s jewelry designs.
“I was going to ask you to come back to Seven Spire. I was going to offer you your old space in the dungeon and all the gold and gems you could ever desire to work with.”
He looked up and arched an eyebrow at me. “And now you’re not? How disappointing.”
“You should stay here with Gemma. She needs you more than I do.” A wry smile curved my lips. “Besides, you need a new apprentice, and I’m far too busy as queen to fetch your tools.”
“You are a wonderful queen, Evie,” Alvis said in a serious voice. “Bellona couldn’t be in better hands.”
“Why? Because I’m a Winter queen?” I asked, my tone a bit snide.
He shook his head. “No. Not because of your magic, but because of you, because of the strong, caring person you are. Your magic is part of you, but it’s not the most important part. Remember that.”
“I will. And I want you to know that I finally figured out what it really means to be a Winter queen.”
“And what’s that?” he asked in a guarded tone.
“My whole life, everyone always told me that I was a mutt, and I always thought of myself that way too. That I had an enhanced sense of smell and my immunity and that was it.” I waggled my fingers. “These small, random magical skills that everyone overlooked or mocked or dismissed as weak, unimportant, insignificant. They were right, and they were wrong. I am a mutt. But that’s not all that I am.”
“So what else are you?”
I straightened up. “I’m a master.”
“And your element?”
“Magic.” I waggled my fingers again. “I can control magic.”
Satisfaction gleamed in Alvis’s hazel eyes. “Yes, yes, you can.”
“I always thought that I had to actually touch something in order to snuff out its magic, but in the gardens, when I was trying to save Sullivan, I pushed my power outside myself, just like a regular magier would,” I said. “And I realized that I can still kill magic, still destroy it, but that I can control it as well. That I can wield my immunity like a sword, and maybe even other people’s magic along with it.”
“A master has complete control of their element,” Alvis said. “You can do anything to magic that I can do to metal and stone. You just have to practice and work and figure out how, just like I had to figure out my power for myself.”
He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else. Finally, he did. “But realizing that you’re a master isn’t what it means to be a Winter queen. Not really.”
I let out a breath. “I know. Being a Winter queen doesn’t have anything to do with my magic, powers, or abilities. It’s about being hard enough, strong enough, to do what’s right for Bellona, and for all the people who are counting on me, no matter what the personal cost is to myself. That’s what being a Winter queen really means. Serilda told me that once. I didn’t think she was telling me the truth then, but I do now, after everything that’s happened.”
Alvis nodded, then reached over and took my hand. “And you are a fine Winter queen, Evie. A very fine Winter queen.”
I smiled and threaded my fingers through his. “That’s because I had good teachers like you along the way.”
He smiled back at me. And just like with Heinrich, the two of us sat there in silence, watching Gemma and Grimley play and soaking up the quiet strength of each other’s company.
* * *
Three days later, I was right back where I started—in the Glitnir throne room.
Given everything that had happened, I never wanted to set foot in this room again, but this was a happy occasion . . . more or less.
“Today, I am pleased and honored to announce a new treaty with Queen Everleigh,” Heinrich said, his voice booming through the room. “One where we will be united in friendship, a strong, long-lasting friendship that will stand the test of time.”
The two of us were standing at the bottom of the dais, with the nobles gathered around us. Heinrich beamed at me, and I returned his smile.
“Thank you, King Heinrich,” I replied, clinking my champagne glass against his. “To friendship. And new beginnings.”
“To friendship!” he roared.
Everyone echoed the words, and we toasted to the new treaty. The nobles smiled and nodded at me, but I could almost see the wheels spinning in their minds as they wondered exactly how I’d gotten out of my engagement to Dominic and had still gotten my treaty to boot. From what Xenia had told me, rumors were flying through the palace, and each one was more outlandish than the last. Everything from my thwarting an assassination attempt on the king’s life, to saving Dominic from certain death, to battling a whole platoon of Mortan assassins mounted on strixes.
Well, perhaps the rumors weren’t so outlandish after all.
I heard the murmurs among the crowd, but I kept my benign smile fixed in place. I didn’t care what they thought of me, and I would let Heinrich explain the treaty to them however he liked. They were his nobles, not mine, and I had plenty of my own to deal with at Seven Spire.
Once all the pleasantries were said, all the hands were shaken, and all the champagne was drunk, I returned to my chambers, where Calandre and her sisters were packing up my clothes. I didn’t want to be in their way, so I left them to their work. Besides, there were some people I needed to see before we left.
I didn’t have to go far to find the first pair. Dominic and Rhea were ensconced in the same shadowy alcove that Sullivan and I had hidden in the other night. The two of them had kept their distance from each other the past few days, but now that they were alone, they were making the most of their time together.
I waited until they had stopped kissing before I cleared my throat. Dominic and Rhea broke apart, but when they realized that it was just me, they curled their arms around each other’s waists again.
“I’d better get an invitation to the wedding,” I drawled. “Especially since it involves my ex-fiancé.”
Dominic laughed, then stepped forward and grabbed my hands. “Not only did you tell me to go get the woman I love, but you also saved my family from a Mortan plot. Forget a mere invitation. I should make you a groomsman.”
I grinned. “You’re right. You
should make me a groomsman.”
Dominic laughed again and squeezed my hands. “Thank you, Everleigh. For everything. But I’m afraid that I must leave you two lovely ladies behind. Duty calls, as it always does.”
He winked at me, kissed Rhea’s cheek, and set off down the hallway.
“He really is charming,” I murmured.
Rhea grinned. “You have no idea.”
“I’m so happy for the two of you, and I’m sorry for any pain that I caused.”
She waved away my apology. “You were trying to do what was best for everyone. I understand that. I’m just grateful that you saved Dominic and his family from the Mortans.”
I held out my hand. “Until we meet again?”
She nodded and shook it. “Until we meet again.”
Rhea went back to her duties, while I moved on to the next person that I wanted to speak with.
A few minutes later, I knocked on a door. A voice told me to come in, so I twisted the knob and stepped into the greenhouse. Helene was sitting at the writing desk, staring at the Amethyst Eye cactus perched on the corner.
She swiveled around in her chair. Surprise flickered across her face, but she pushed herself to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. “Everleigh. To what do I owe this visit?”
I drew in a breath, then let it out. “I wanted to apologize.”
She arched an eyebrow. “For thinking that I was a Mortan assassin who was poisoning the king and plotting to put my ex-lover on the throne?”
I grimaced. “Among other things.”
I didn’t know exactly what Sullivan or anyone else had told her, but Helene was smart, so I wasn’t surprised that she knew what had really happened. I walked over to her, and we both stared down at the cactus. Her silver signet ring was sitting next to the plant.
She reached out and tapped her finger on the ring. “Dahlia gave me this ring the day before you arrived. She said it was similar to one her mother had worn. I was so thrilled. I never realized that it was a Mortan design and that she was plotting to make me her scapegoat.”
She fell silent, staring at both the ring and the cactus. After several seconds, she faced me again.
“I understand why you suspected me,” Helene said. “The cactus and the ring were in my workshop, and I had the necessary skills and magic to make the poison. It was the most logical conclusion.”
“Perhaps. But part of me also wanted it to be you. Because of Sullivan, and everything the two of you shared. Petty, I know.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps. But I probably would have done the same.” She gave me a small smile. “Jealousy makes fools of us all.”
“As does love,” I added in a soft voice.
We both stared at the cactus again, but our silence was companionable.
“Is it wrong that I actually admire Dahlia’s ingenuity?” Helene asked. “I always thought that I was one of the smartest, strongest plant magiers in Andvari, but she outwitted me with a bloody cactus. And not even a very big one.”
She puckered her lips in an exaggerated pout. I barked out a laugh, and she did the same.
“Enough about Dahlia and her schemes,” I said. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant—and far more useful.”
Helene frowned. “Like what?”
I strode over to another table and picked up a jar. “Like this burn cream you used to heal my arm. It’s amazing. I want to order some and invite you to Seven Spire to discuss it and your other formulas with Aisha, the head of my bone masters.”
Helene’s jaw clenched. “You don’t have to buy my forgiveness.”
I shook my head. “I respect you far too much for that. Your cream is wonderful, and I want to be the first one to buy it. This is business.” I paused. “Although I would like to get to know you better, perhaps even become friends, if you are willing.”
Helene studied me a moment, but she must have realized that I was being serious because a sly, satisfied smile spread across her face, and she stepped forward and threaded her arm through mine. “Oh, Everleigh. Mixing business and pleasure is one of my favorite things. You and I are going to get along fabulously.”
* * *
Helene was right. We did get along fabulously. She was smart and clever and funny, and I enjoyed her company far more than I expected. I made arrangements with her to ship a case of burn cream to Seven Spire, then left her workshop.
I didn’t want to go back to my room, and I didn’t want to see anyone else right now, so I slipped outside, walked through the hedge maze, and ended up at the gazebo.
The blood and bodies had been removed, and the structure was once again pristine. Memories of the battle with Maeven and the magiers floated through my mind, along with my time with Sullivan.
If I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could still feel his lips on mine, still feel his hands sliding across my skin, still feel him moving with me. I would never forget that one perfect moment we’d shared, even if everything else between us had been burned away to poisoned, ruinous ash.
I sat down on one of the cushioned benches and stared out over the pond, watching the water lilies twirl to and fro. I hadn’t been here long, maybe five minutes, when familiar footsteps sounded. I drew in a breath, enjoying his cold, vanilla scent, although the sharp tangs of his minty regret and ashy heartbreak made my own heart squeeze in response.
Sullivan stepped into the gazebo and slowly approached me. “May I sit?”
I waved my hand. “Of course.”
He walked over and sat on the bench beside me. I had been trying to give him some time and space to come to terms with everything, so I hadn’t seen much of him over the past few days. His face was pale and haggard, despite the stubble that darkened his chin. His eyes were dim, his shoulders were slumped, and his entire body seemed brittle and thin.
Dahlia’s funeral had been held yesterday, and she had been buried as a hero instead of the traitor she was. Of course I had wanted to talk to Sullivan after the funeral, had wanted to comfort him, but he’d left the moment the service was finished, as if he couldn’t stomach all the nice things people were saying about his mother. I wouldn’t have wanted to hear the lies either.
“You should be proud,” Sullivan said in a low, strained voice. “You finally got your treaty. My father told me that he gave you everything you wanted and then some.”
“Yes, he did.”
But I didn’t want to talk about the treaty. I wanted to talk about him, about us, or if there even was an us anymore. So I drew in a breath, then let it out and said the words I had been wanting to for days now.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For lying to you. For letting you think that I was going to marry Dominic. I shouldn’t have done that, especially when Paloma and the others knew the truth.”
“I understand,” he said in that low, strained voice again. “You were trying to figure out who was poisoning my father and trying to hurt my family. I would have done the same, if I’d been in your position.”
“Thank you for that. Even though I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
Sullivan let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “My mother is the one who doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. And do you know what the worst part is?” He paused a moment, then answered his own question. “I keep thinking that it’s my fault. That I said or did something that convinced her to go through with her scheme. That I’m the reason she did all those awful things. That I’m the reason Frederich, Hans, and all those other people are dead.”
He stared at me, anguish burning in his eyes, and I grabbed his hand.
“It is not your fault. None of this is your fault, Sully. Your mother made her own choices, her own decisions.”
“But I keep thinking that I should have known more about who she really was. That I should have asked more questions about where she came from and why she stayed at the palace all these years.” He shook his head. “I was always so caught up in how people treated me compared to Dominic and Frederich that I never wondered
what she thought about being treated the same way. I never realized how much it hurt her too, or how much she hated my father.”
He fell silent, then raised his anguished gaze to mine again. “Do you think what she said was true? That she . . . loved me?”
I grabbed his other hand and squeezed it too. “Absolutely. She saved you from that assassin, from another member of the Bastard Brigade. She saved your life. In the end, she chose you over her mission, Sully. Never forget that.”
He nodded, and we fell silent. He seemed a little calmer now, although just as sad as before.
“What are you going to do now?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. My father and Dominic have asked me to stay at Glitnir, to help them prepare for war against Morta, if it comes to that.”
“And what do you want to do?”
“I just want to run away again and join another gladiator troupe. Go to some far-flung place where nobody knows who I am, or especially what my mother was.”
“You know, I ran away to a gladiator troupe once,” I said. “It worked out okay for me.”
My joke finally coaxed a small smile out of him.
“Maybe you should do that,” I said, my voice turning serious. “Maybe you should go away for a while. Maybe you should take some time to figure out who you are and who you want to be.”
“Maybe I should.”
“Well, wherever you go, you’ll always have a place at Seven Spire.” I paused. “With me.”
The words hung in the air between us, and I wondered if I’d said too much. No, I decided. One of the reasons we were in this mess was because I hadn’t said enough. I might never see Sullivan again, and I wasn’t going to leave without telling him how I felt.
“And what kind of place would that be, highness?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Whatever you want it to be.”
I meant every word. I didn’t care that Sullivan was a bastard prince. I never had, but now it seemed like the most trivial thing, after all that we had been through. I didn’t care what Sullivan’s title was, or if he even had a title, and I certainly didn’t care what the Seven Spire nobles or anyone else thought about us. Not anymore. All that mattered was how I felt about him, and him about me.
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